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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27268531">a girl of gold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaranthskies/pseuds/amaranthskies'>amaranthskies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, takes place in rwby vol 1-3, they're at beacon and they fall in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:33:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27268531</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaranthskies/pseuds/amaranthskies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Five moments between Blake and Yang during their time at Beacon.</p><p>or, alternatively, Blake learns how to fall in love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>137</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a girl of gold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello, all!! i started this fic back in [checks notes] beginning of 2019, wow. i was looking back in my drafts and i found this hanging around, and i thought, "why not finish it?" </p><p>apologies if you can sense a difference in my writing style; it's been more than a year and half since i picked this fic back up.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>a girl of gold</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blake’s not sure what to make of their team. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their leader, Ruby, is young; her youth and slight inexperience shines through her enthusiasm to make friends, her awkwardness when faced with socializing. She’s composed of eagerness and is sweet in that way children are when they’re still hopeful about the world, when they believe nothing can stand in their way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Weiss she’s still on the edge about. Cold and cutting with an edge not even Ruby can break, curled lips and quiet disapproval. She’s too reminiscent of the last name stamped over her possessions, the slip in her voice when she speaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Yang. Yang makes Blake wary for all the wrong reasons - she’s too bright, gold and shining. Everyone wants to look but they’re too afraid to touch for fear of getting burned, sending jolts every time Blake looks at her or catches her eye. And she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy </span>
  </em>
  <span>- too easy to talk to, too easy to trust, close enough for her to touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake curls in her bed late at night, watching the shadows play across the chipped underside of Yang’s bed. She can hear Ruby tossing and turning while she dreams, Weiss’s pale hands folded over her coverlets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She focuses on the soft sounds of Yang breathing above her, soft and slow, like sunlight fluctuating through the gaps in the curtains. Blake’s covers are cold, and she idly wondered what it was like to be Yang, to have heat wrapped around her heart, something to keep burning in the dead of night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She closed her eyes and drifted off to the rising and falling of Yang’s breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s after a particularly grueling day of training; Blake walks into the training room with the intent of tuning up her weapon. Gambol Shroud’s sheath was clicking oddly when she released the second blade, and though the ribbon didn’t look like it was in any danger of fraying, she still wanted to dismantle it and see whether she could take a look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room wasn’t empty; a lone figure was sprawled on top of one of the tables, hunched over their weapon. Upon getting closer, Blake could discern Yang’s familiar growth of gold hair, curling around the taller girl’s shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though Yang is Blake’s partner, she still hasn’t found a way to make easy conversation with her. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants </span>
  </em>
  <span>to, wants to speak with the girl without her words coming clipped and short, but it’s already taking all of Blake’s willpower to fight off the ghosts in her nightmares. She doesn’t think she can fight her immediate defenses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Yang makes it easier. She looks up as Blake nears, her usual grin breaking across her face. It lights up her features, as bright as her hair, and Blake feels some of her usual guard melt. “Hey, Blake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have something on your nose,” Blake says, but she softens her voice to let Yang know she doesn’t mean anything by it. Yang takes Blake’s comment in stride and swipes at her face, but only succeeds in smearing grease across her cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn.” She sighs. “I guess I’ll have to shower when I get back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm.” Blake sits down across from Yang and tosses Gambol Shroud onto the table. It’s level with Yang’s boots and Blake can see the mud caked onto the worn soles. Everything Yang wears is worn down and soft with her burning affection and care, and Blake finds it endearing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They work in silence for a little while, Blake gently prying Gambol Shroud’s blade from the sheath. Inside, she can see that one of the gears has been caught on a sliver of metal, probably a chipped piece from one of their training sessions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She picks it out with deft fingers and decides that the locking mechanism could use some cleaning, as she’s here already. Rubbing down the dark metal is soothing, a repetitive motion that allows Blake to glance over at her partner while completing her task.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang’s face is a mask of steady concentration as she dismantles Ember Celica. A pile of empty cartridges lie on the table next to her, and she’s tuning the gears and tightening screws with ease, slotting pieces into each other with definitive </span>
  <em>
    <span>clicks. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s no surprise that Yang’s confidence and familiarity with her weapon comes from years of practice, and maybe some talent, as well. Gunpowder dusts Yang’s knuckles and grease stains her skin, but she’s flush-cheeked and humming indistinctly as she fidgets with her weapon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heat climbs up Blake’s cheeks and she looks away. Standing, she clicks Gambol Shroud into its sheath and swings it - it clicks cleanly and slices across the room, lodging easily in the chest of one of the training dummies across the room. Blake dislodges it with a flick of her wrist and it sails back into her grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sheathes the weapon. </span>
  <em>
    <span>All done, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thinks in satisfaction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake turns to see Yang watching her. The gold-haired girl does nothing to hide her stare, just saying, openly and pleased, “Nice swing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake gives her a smile, caught up in the pleasure of Yang’s praise and the satisfaction of her weapon working well again, and heads back to their room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>3.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her team is, slowly, growing familiar to Blake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She still is caught off-guard by it, sometimes. Weiss has proven herself to be someone more than the name that she carries - is even direct and honest, growing past her upbringing to become someone Blake is proud to call her teammate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby’s grown on Blake - her infectious cheer is easy to spread and easy to trust. She’s like Yang in that way, the same brand of easy affection, the same easy way to love. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Yang… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake’s not sure when she started to steal glances more and more, pocketing them like they were secrets. More often that not, she’d catch herself watching Yang talk with their peers, laughing bright and loud at something somebody said, roughhousing with some of the boys for what seemed like just for fun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not new, this casual secret of hers, but she can’t stop herself this time. Yang draws her in and burns twice as bright, a high Blake can’t escape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thinks she sees Yang glance at her, too, but she doesn’t make anything of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Besides,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thinks, her gaze running a line along the curve of Yang’s chin and up her throat, ending at the corner of her eye, </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s not going to be the death of me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>4. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Blake!” Ruby’s waving at her from the other side of the room; she’s obviously excited about </span>
  <em>
    <span>something, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and her glee becomes apparent when she continues, “Dinner outing! Let’s go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have homework?” Blake asked curiously. Ruby’s young years provide an easy earnestness that brings energy and good spirits to the team, but she sometimes ends up choosing to leave homework in favor of other activities. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did some already,” Ruby replied, pulling a face. “But homework can wait in the face of </span>
  <em>
    <span>team bonding. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Anyways, Weiss said she was coming!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, even Weiss?” Yang peered into the room, grinning broadly - her usual orange scarf was off, dangling in her hand by her side. Her hair was damp at the edges and it was clear she’d just come from the showers. “Hey, Blake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake feels warmth sweep through her, her fingertips tingling from the emotion. She carefully reels in the emotion before it can reach her face - she’s familiar with the starry-eyed gazes Yang gets from students at Beacon, and though she’s reconciled herself to the fact that she has joined that group, she doesn’t want it </span>
  <em>
    <span>showing. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang’s good at charming her way through people’s guards, but Blake knows how to throw up masks like they’re shadows. Masks weren’t always skin-and-bone survival - they played a useful part in her ability to read people as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yang -” Ruby rounded on her sister, her cape fluttering behind her - </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Please </span>
  </em>
  <span>convince Blake to come with us while I get Weiss from the library.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>said I wasn’t going,” Blake called, amused, but Ruby had already dashed off, her scarlet cape a flurry behind her. Yang shook her head, smiling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s always in a rush,” she commented fondly, dropping down onto the foot of Blake’s bed. Blake curled her legs to make more room for Yang. She’s used to Yang’s usual contact and affection - she hands it out, to everyone, like it costs nothing. “Hopefully, she doesn’t burn down the library in order to force Weiss to stop studying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Weiss even confirm she was coming?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably mumbled something in her sleep, and Ruby took it as a sign from the gods.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both laughed at that, easy, and Blake put her book down. “I’ll get ready to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Yang asked. “I thought I’d have to drag you out, kicking and screaming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake swung a leg over the corner of her bed - the edge of her foot brushed Yang’s knee, and Yang jumped a little at the contact. “Me, Xiao Long?” she asked teasingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang rolled her eyes and ducked her head, an answering grin cracking across her face. “Maybe,” she said slyly, then she was standing and Blake felt herself being hoisted into the air. She shrieked and batted at Yang’s back, feeling herself being thrown across Yang’s shoulders like a sack, but Yang only laughed, long and loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake’s throat and chest vibrated with the sound of that laugh, pressed against Yang’s body as she went limp in mock defeat. “We get it,” she groaned, resigning herself to halfhearted swipes at Yang’s mess of gold hair. “You’re strong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or, you weigh nothing.” Yang’s shoulders tremble in the beginnings of another laugh and Blake retaliates, pushing her face against Yang’s neck and hooking her hands under the edges of Yang’s scarf for purchase. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hands make contact with Yang’s chin and she curls her legs around the taller girl’s torso. Yang shifts to accommodate her weight and suddenly she’s being supported by Yang’s arms and she’s pulled back to have a clear look of the look on Yang’s face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang winks, breathless. Her cheeks and lips are reddening and all Blake can think of is how much she wants to cover them with hers. “You’re stronger than you look, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you just look it,” Blake retorted. She pulled away from Yang, thankful that her tanned skin hid a blush better than Yang’s - however, Yang wore all her looks openly and without shame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake slid to the floor. Yang’s hands lingered on her thighs, drifting up to brush her waist before she reeled them in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should find Ruby,” is all Blake says, softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang nods, easy. She doesn’t say anything, but her hands waver like she wants to. Her cheeks are still flushed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake aches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They leave. </span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>5. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s late in the night. Blake’s heading down the hall, to take her shower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake turns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang is framed in the doorway. She looks soft and vulnerable in the light, her worn sleepwear disheveled. Blake’s heart surges with fondness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” she asks, quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang chews on her lip. “I - nothing,” she says quickly. “Go take your shower.” She smiles at Blake, but there’s still hesitancy in her face. Yang never is one for hesitancy, but this time it’s scrawled all over her body. “Good job today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too,” Blake replies, and she scrubs off the dirt and grime from the forest in the showers. Today wasn’t overly harsh, just grueling. She takes care of her ears in particular - they ‘re stiff from being pinned in place for so long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs and heads back to their room. It is dark enough in the hallway, so she doesn’t cover her ears again. They flick, exhausted, against her scalp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake enters her room and the first thing she notices is that Yang is leaning against the ladder leading up to her bed. She still has that same hesitant, vulnerable stance from before, and the look makes her appear soft in a way Blake has rarely seen before. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gold is a malleable material,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Blake thinks distantly. She places her towel at the foot of her bed in silence. Yang’s head tracks her movements - by sound, not by vision, though Blake can see in the dark due to her enhanced vision. Yang can’t, not as well, and the way she tilts her head in Blake’s direction only adds to her vulnerability. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you want anything?” Blake asked, as gently as she could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang takes a deep, slow breath, but before she could say anything, Ruby shifts in her bed across the room. They both freeze and glance over to the other side of the room, but neither Ruby nor Weiss stir from their slumber. Blake feels an odd tension in the space between her and Yang - she frowns at it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s like I’m about to fall. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you…?” Yang asks, then trails off in a breathless exhale. Her hand flashes and Blake follows the movement, up, up, up, Yang’s hand smoothing over the sheets of her bunk bed then tapping the blankets with a sort of quiet urgency. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake calculates the question, turning it over in her head. Yang’s cheeks are flushing already, only noticeable to Blake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Blake answers in a rush, quietly. “Yeah, okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang grins and the tension dissipates almost immediately. Blake feels warmth spread from her chest and up into her face, and she fights the urge to plaster her face over her hands. “Come up, then,” Yang says almost cockily, and Blake swats at her offered hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They fall back into their easy rhythm as Yang climbs up the ladder, then Blake, Yang stifling a curse when her head bumps against the too-short ceiling. Blake laughs quietly at her, and Yang falls dramatically backwards onto her bed, sprawling along the sheets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” she whispers, and Blake crosses the distance to lie on the space next to Yang. The bed is too small for the both of them and Blake’s knees knock into Yang’s thighs - she curls in on herself to give the other girl space, and Yang shifts too, moving to drape an arm across Blake’s waist. Her hand rests securely on the small of Blake’s back and Blake tenses, then melts. Yang yawns, sleepily, already becoming soft and pliant in the face of exhaustion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Blake,” she murmurs into the space between them. Blake can hear Yang’s breath, except this time it’s brushing past her lips, close and tangible and warm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake closes her eyes and lets herself rest. “Goodnight, Yang.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She feels safe, and warm, drifting in this small hour between asleep and awake. Heat is blooming in her core, spreading from where Yang’s fingers brush her spine and her ankles locked around Blake’s, and she thinks she finally knows what it is like to feel golden. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you all for reading!! my tumblr's <a href="https://amaranthskies-writes.tumblr.com">here</a>. pay me a visit!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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